


It's All Coming Back To Me Now

by JayEz



Series: It Started In The Hallway [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Happy Ending, I promise!, M/M, past adultery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-29 04:38:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayEz/pseuds/JayEz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Both Draco and Harry are trying to move on with their lives and for three years, it seems to be working. Then, however, a tragic accident claims two victims and intertwines their lives once again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dark Marks Rising

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song “It’s all coming back to me now”, performed by Lea Michelle on “Glee“.
> 
> Prepare for hurt. A lot of hurt. BUT I promise a happy end, so keep holding on to that :) 
> 
> Million thanks to everyone who has stayed with me until this last - yes, last - part! I can understand that some readers can't deal with adultery when it comes to their OTP; still I'm sorry to see them go. Anyway, I'm a softie deep deep deep down and I could never give Harry and Draco anything other than a happy ending. 
> 
> All my love to [ vernie_klein](http://archiveofourown.org/users/vernie_klein/pseuds/vernie_klein) for being my beta despite all the feels!

Draco felt his balls tightening and tugged at the mop of brown hair of the Twink who was sucking him to give him a warning but Twink just sped up and gripped Draco’s hips tighter. 

He came with a low groan and smiled as the Twink stood up. 

“We should do this again sometime,” he said as Draco closed his fly. 

“Whatever.” 

The blond made his way through the dark room back into the club, contemplating whether he should head home or pick someone up to take back to his new apartment in the city on the way out. 

Having access to both the Wizarding and the Muggle community made Draco’s new found favourite past-time so much easier.

XXX

“Harry, why don’t you come over for dinner tonight?”

“Hermione, thank you, but-“

“Don’t give me any false excuses, Harry; I know from Ron that you have no plans.”  
Harry sighed. “Alright.”

When he entered Ron’s and Hermione’s house an hour and a half later and stepped into the dining room he found he wasn’t the only guest. 

“Harry, this is Nic, he works in my department,” Hermione introduced the man. 

Harry raised his eyebrows in question at her and Ron and Ron shrugged, his eyes saying _“Sorry, I couldn’t stop her and yes, you should try dating, mate.”_

Harry quickly sized Nic up. He was tall, handsome, masculine but with soft features and an immaculate sense of clothing from the looks of it. 

“Hi, I’m Harry,” he said and shook Nic’s hand. 

XXX

Harry didn’t panic when Nic asked him out on a date when they were leaving Ron’s and Hermione’s place that evening. Nor did he panic when a second date followed, nor did he panic on the third. 

He did, however, panic when, after said third date, Nic moved in and kissed Harry. 

Harry told himself to enjoy it, to kiss back, even tried to convince himself to invite Nic back in but he found he couldn’t. 

It felt so wrong. Nic’s body was too strong, his hair to thick and his kiss too submissive, like Harry could do with him as he pleased. 

Nic withdrew, question clearly written in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” Harry supplied. “I’m afraid I’m not just ready yet.”

Nic’s face fell but he didn’t make a fuss and simply left. 

That night, Harry moved to the couch again.

XXX

The first time Draco held his son in his hands was probably the most magical moment of his life. The little thing smiled up at him and wriggled a bit and suddenly all the hurt, all the pain of the past months seemed taken away from him. Instead, something beautiful had come out of the misery and his name was Scorpius, born January 5th, 2008. 

Of course, the happy haze didn’t last long. 

A month into Astoria’s maternal leave a reporter had seen Narcissa visit her house and had eventually deduced the story behind the big break-up. The papers exploited Draco’s impending fatherhood for nearly four more weeks before they ran out of insults to write. 

When they learned that Draco’s son had been born, everything started again. This time, however, Draco didn’t find it in him to care. He had a son to take care of now. 

Astoria and he had agreed that Draco would become a steady presence just like Narcissa, who had gone overboard with buying baby supplies and who had, not unsurprisingly, developed a deep friendship with Astoria. 

So between nearly getting blown to pieces, arresting the scum of the Wizarding world, hitting the clubs almost every night and providing Witch Weekly and Brucho and whichever trashy magazine willing to run the story with material about his sexual exploits, Draco would try to raise his son.

XXX

_April 2008_

The first time Draco arrested someone with a Dark Mark on his arm, he physically recoiled. When Peter asked what was wrong and saw for himself, he shot Draco a worried look. 

The looks became even more worried the more criminals with dark tattoos they arrested over the next months. 

XXX

_June 2009_

Kinsley held a crisis meeting after a sighting of the Dark Mark. It was the first time that Draco had seen Harry up close for months now, over a year, exactly. 

The Boy Who Lived To Save The World didn’t look that well. Being head of the Auror Department was clearly taking its toll and Draco could only imagine how little sleep Harry was forcing himself to run on with an apparent neo-Death-Eater-movement in the picture. 

They didn’t look into each other’s eyes, they didn’t speak directly to each other and that night found Draco at another bar, flirting heavily with a brick of a man who looked nothing like Harry. Not one bit. 

XXX

_March 2010_

“Harry-“

“No, Hermione, I’m not going on another blind date!”

“Then would you at least tell me why no one you meet makes it past the third date?”

“That’s not of your-“ 

“Don’t you dare say it’s not of my concern, Harry James Potter! You need to move on and stop being miserable. Not just for your sake but for everyone’s.”

Harry shot Ron a glance, but the redhead knew better than to get caught in the crossfire. 

“I have moved on!”

Hermione obviously had to bite back her “Oh, please”. Instead, she sighed. 

“Harry, you’re losing weight, I always see a bottle of Scotch at our place, you’ve been living on take-out and caffeine, every man anyone of your friends introduces you to is out of your life within two weeks and I know you’ve been sleeping on your couch ever since the Prophet ran that piece on Scorpio’s first birthday.”

“So what do you suggest? I can’t just forget about nine years of my life like Mr Casanova in the Hit Wizard department.”

“No,” Ron cut in, “instead you’re taking more and more risks, putting your life on the line at every opportunity that arises. Mate, you’re not ok.”

“I’m not-“

“Don’t deny it, mate. I can make lists of the times that you almost got killed in the past months.”

Harry crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I did what I had to.”

His best friends exchanged an insecure glance, non-verbally communicating as to how they should go on. Harry had to close his eyes and turn away from the sight for it made his chest hurt. Draco and he used to have that power. They could read each other like a book. 

“Perhaps you could talk to someone?” Hermione suggested. 

Harry whirled around. “I left something at the office,” he said and stormed out. 

XXX

_July 2010_

Another sighting of the Dark Mark, another crisis meeting. 

Harry was desperate for drastic measures and suggested he go undercover to find out more. 

“You won’t be going alone,” was all Kingsley said. Anyone knew better than to argue with Harry when he was wearing his Chosen One Look, or so Draco had always- 

Harry shut out the thought immediately. 

“He won’t.” 

Harry smiled at Ron. He had talked his idea over with his friend the night before and even though Ron insisted it was a suicide mission he had left no doubt that he’d follow Harry. 

And so they pack and go, Hermione taking care of Ted and little Rose and Hugo.

XXX

Draco yawned obvious enough for Peter to notice. 

“No, Draco, you’re not getting out of doing the paper work. It’s your turn.”

Draco shot him a patented Malfoy glare. These bloody perceptive Hit Wizards.  
Still, he’d have loved to catch a little sleep before his shift ended in the morning. 

Scorpius and Astoria would already be at the Manor where Scorpius’ mother and grand-mother would be trying to keep the little one from destroying any expensive vases while running around the house and enjoying a free evening with Draco on duty over the night. 

He found himself wishing for a time-turner to fast-forward to breakfast when his son would be waiting for him when he got home. No such luck, though. So Draco dived into the paper work. 

It was barely past eleven when a Patronus appeared in the office and startled both Peter and Draco. 

“Mr Malfoy,” sounded his boss’s voice, “there are reports of an attack on Malfoy Manor. I relieve you from your shift and urge you to go back there immediately.”

The white figure vanished. Draco was rooted to the spot. An attack?

He shot Peter a panicked look. 

“Go, Draco!”

That shook him out of his reverie.

XXX

He opened his eyes and saw red. Red flames, eating away at Malfoy Manor – the entire house was on fire, burning like only fiendfyre could. It sent him back in time into the Room of Requirement, clinging on to Harry for dear life, having just lost a dear friend to the flames.

He couldn’t believe his eyes and his knees gave out under him. 

Only now did he see the Dark Mark over the Manor. He closed his eyes and filled in the gaps. 

There was a noise of little feet in his vicinity. “Dad!” Draco saw Scorpius moving away from one of the many Aurors on the scene and running towards his father. 

“Where are Mom and grandma?” his child asked, eyes wide and scarred. 

“I don’t know.”

“They were in the house, Dad. They sent me to the tree house we built. Why is the Manor burning?”  
“Because bad people set it on fire.”  
“But fire hurts people!”  
“Yes. They wanted to hurt you.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, Scorpius. Sometimes, bad things happen.”

Draco felt hollow as he took his son into his arms and cradled him, running a hand over the blond hair soothingly. Soon, the little one passed out from exhaustion. 

Gradually, the fiendfyre died down.

“Mr. Malfoy?” 

Draco turned and the look on Overstreet‘s face told him everything he needed to know. 

“We found no survivors. It looks like the work of Neo-Death-Eaters.”

Draco nodded. He didn’t trust his voice. He had no idea how long he kept standing there, cradling a sleeping Scorpius until the sound of someone apparating near him drew him out of his stupor. 

“I came as soon as I heard, Draco, but Harry and Ron are still undercover so it wasn’t soon-“ Hermione started but stopped once she had taken in the picture in front of her.

“What happened?”

“Fiendfyre.”

“Who’d do such a thing?”

“There’s been a rise in vigilante activity recently. To the new followers of the Dark Arts, we’re still traitors apparently.” His voice sounded mechanical.  
“Oh my God, Draco, did someone get hurt?”

His look told her everything. 

“They sent Scorpius to the tree house. I guess they tried to fight the attackers.”

“Where will you go now?”

“To my apartment. Scorpius has a few clothes there as well.”

“Pack them and come to our place, okay? I wouldn’t want you two to be alone right now. On second thought: Your elves can fetch your things, right?”

Draco froze. The elves. He didn’t even know whether they were alive. 

He called them. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, out of nowhere, all five appeared, unharmed. 

“Master Draco!” Liope called loudly. “We were told to go to your place and stay there! What-“ 

Liope froze as Meppo turned her towards the ruins of Malfoy Manor. 

“Narcissa and Astoria are … dead.” Draco managed. 

Oaky, Philus and Liope burst in tears and it broke Draco’s heart to see the creatures’ grief like that. He and Narcissa had come a long way in their treatment of their house-elves. 

“I would like to ask you to go back to my apartment. Get a few things for Scorpius and me; we’re staying at Hermione’s for a while.” He turned to his friend. “Can they come, too?”

“Of course!” Hermione’s voice cracked and her eyes were shining wetly. 

“Let’s go,” he urged. He needed to get away. Now.


	2. Dusha kraszt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the wake of Narcissa's and Astoria's funeral, the trio is there to help him even though things between him and Harry are still strained.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay! A medical emergency in my beta's family took precedence. Everything is mostly ok now and I'm really happy for that! 
> 
> On the other hand, now you only have to wait until Saturday for the last chapter ;)

It took Scorpius two days to really understand that his mother and grandmother were never coming back. 

They stayed at Hermione’s for three nights and then returned to Draco’s flat which was just big enough to host Draco, Scorpius and the elves. 

Even though Scorpius had his own room, he slept in Draco’s bed and Draco was grateful for the reminder that not everyone he had ever cared for in this word had left him. 

His boss told him to take as much time as he needed before he got back to work when he updated Draco on the investigation. There were some leads but nothing too conclusive. 

Draco busied himself with funeral preparations. Once he had explained the concept of funerals to Scorpius, his son was very helpful. 

“Mom always bought turnips,” he supplied when Draco was thinking about the floral arrangements and for a moment, Draco almost shed a tear. 

But he didn’t. He didn’t cry once. He hadn’t cried since Harry had thrown him out three years ago. 

XXX

The funeral was a small affair. A handful of Astoria’s and Narcissa’s colleagues, Draco’s closest friends from the Hit Wizard department, the Weasley family, Kingsley and Harry. Draco noticed the latter without actually seeing him. He could still feel Harry’s presence after all that time. 

Draco hated the custom where every one of the guests would lay down flowers onto the grave and express their condolences. Most of the people simply nodded at Draco, for which he was grateful, but Narcissa’s friends and Astoria’s co-workers were more insistent and said things like “We’ll miss her,” or “We’re truly sorry,” and other bollocks. 

Harry was the last one to lay his flower down. A yellow rose for Astoria, a red one for Narcissa. Harry stared at Narcissa’s grave for a long moment and Draco could fathom a guess as to what the Boy Who Lived Again was thinking. 

The battle of Hogwarts. The Death Summer Trials. Harry’s first visit to Malfoy Manor as Draco’s boyfriend. Ron and Hermione’s wedding. Andromeda’s funeral. The first time Narcissa had invited Harry and Ted over to the Manor after the adoption. 

They were the same memories that the Slytherin was reliving. 

Harry turned abruptly and approached Draco slowly, waiting for a sign that he should turn away after all. 

“Draco.” A nod. 

“Harry.”

“How’s Scorpius dealing?”

“As well as can be expected. Much like Ted did.”

Harry nodded again, then looked him straight in the eyes. “How are you dealing?”

“I’m working on it.”

Silence fell. It was Draco who broke it first, the forced lightness apparent in his voice. 

“So how are you? There’s a rumour that you’re dating someone.”

“You know how it is with rumours…” Harry replied elusively. Draco shrugged. “You’ve been doing nicely, too, I’ve heard.” 

“Yeah, I’m keeping my options open.”

And they were silent again. Harry was eying his shoes and when his eyes met Draco’s again there was something soft in them. 

“Draco, if you need anything, don’t be a stranger.”

He almost laughed out loud. For the past three years they had been nothing but strangers, hadn’t even talked to each other, not one word. 

“Thank you,” Draco said because he knew Harry meant it and Harry turned away. 

It was the first time that Draco had to actively fight back tears.

XXX

The following Sunday Draco found himself knocking on Ron and Hermione’s door, Scorpius at his side. He had told his son that Harry and Ted would be there as well and the little one had been eager to meet Ted. He’d heard so much about him from Rose and Hugo after all.

Explaining his relationship with Harry to a two-and-a-half-year-old had been difficult. 

“If we don’t talk much or aren’t that friendly to each other, don’t be surprised, okay? It has nothing to do with Ted.”

“What has it got to do with?”

Draco took a deep breath. “It’s complicated.”

“You always say I’m a smart kid.”

Draco chuckled. He was grateful that Scorpius had inherited all his good traits along with Astoria’s kindness. Draco was beginning to fear that Scorpius might end up in Hufflepuff but to his surprise that didn’t make him love his son any less. 

“Well. Harry and I used to be together. Like Ron and Hermione are.”

“Why aren’t you now?”

“We didn’t get along with each other anymore. So we ended it.”

Draco was grateful that Scorpius wasn’t asking about when this had happened which would have led to a whole lot of other questions. At one point, Draco would explain everything to Scorpius, but two and a half was no age for a child to learn his father was an adulterous whore. 

Back in the present, Ron opened the door. 

“Welcome, Malfoys,” he greeted them with a smile. 

“Hello Ron,” said Scorpius and Draco smiled. Or tried to anyway. 

“Please, come in, the kids are eager to show Scorpius their new Pygmy Puff.”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were about to put your foot down and forbid any more pets?” 

Ron shrugged and turned scarlet. “Rose can be very convincing.”

Draco laughed for the first time in what felt like an eternity as he followed Ron into the dining room where Harry and Hermione were waiting with Rose, Hugo and Ted. 

Draco hardly heard the “hello”s thrown his way before Rose took Scorpius by the arm and dragged him up the stairs. 

“I heard you gave them a new Pygmy Puff,” Draco said lightly. 

Hermione beamed. “They are just the cutest things!”

Draco nodded at Harry and took the seat Ron offered him, trying desperately to avoid Harry’s eyes. 

When Harry returned from collecting the kids for dinner later, Scorpius rushed over to him. 

“Daaaaad,” he drawled and Draco knew he was in trouble. 

“Yes, Scorpius?”

“Ted invited me over to his house to play with his toys. Can I go?”

Draco’s eyes found Harry’s across the table. The Boy Who Used To Be His nodded, a light smile around the corners of his mouth. 

“Yes, you can,” he told Scorpius and the latter jumped up onto the chair beside Draco. 

XXX

Sure enough, on Tuesday evening, Draco took the little one to Grimmauld Place. 

Scorpius was deeply impressed by the way the house just appeared between two others and ran up to the door. Ted opened for them and immediately abducted the blond child, leaving Draco and Harry in the lobby.

They stared at each other for a long moment.

“Would you like a drink?” Harry asked and Draco found himself agreeing. 

They sat in silence by the hot fire, drinking expensive Scotch (of course Harry would buy a Muggle brand) and listening for noises of mayhem from Ted’s room. 

“When will you be returning for duty?” Harry asked suddenly. 

It took Draco a bit to comprehend the question after the long silence. “Next week, probably. Scorpius seems to be doing okay.”

Harry nodded and silence fell again. 

“And what about you?”

Draco met the emerald eyes boldly. “Why do care?”

He saw Harry swallow before answering. “Because we shared nine years of our lives together.”

“Yeah, and after that, we shared three years of silence.”

“Doesn’t mean I stopped caring. So if there’s anything I can do?”

It was Draco’s turn to swallow. “The Boy Who Lived To Be Everyone’s Saviour. Good to see you haven’t changed.”

“Good to see you can still come up with worse nicknames for me than the Prophet.”

“Please, that’s easy. Even Scorpius could do that.”

Harry smiled. “He seems like a great kid.”

“Yeah, he inherited that from his mother.”

“I see a lot of you in him, though.”

Draco held the intense gaze that followed as long as he was able to before asking “What?”

Harry shrugged. “His gestures for example. His eyes light up the same way yours do when he is about to execute a cunning plan like convince you to let him see Ted. He has the same voice you had before it broke.”

Draco found it suddenly hard to breath. “You remember that?”

Harry was about to answer but then he caught himself, cast his eyes down. “I remember a lot of things.”

Silence fell. Draco remembered a lot of things as well. Lazy mornings during Auror training spent in bed, hot nights before Ted moved into Grimmauld Place, Harry and him sneaking off for a quick shag during Ron and Hermione’s wedding reception, the times in training when he and The Boy Who Lived showed everyone just how great they were working together… 

It came rushing back and Draco knew that Harry was experiencing the same thing. 

The tension in the room mounted but neither of them reacted to it. They sat in silence, Harry occasionally re-filling their glasses, until Draco announced that it was time for Scorpius to go to bed. 

“He could stay over next time?” Ted asked with a pleading look at Harry. 

Harry glanced at Draco. “Would that be okay?”

“Please, Daaaaad,” Scorpius supplied and Draco found himself smiling and nodding.

XXX

How could Draco have been so stupid? How could he have ever cheated on Harry?  
His thoughts were playing out several versions of the same question over and over again. 

He had brought Scorpio over to Harry’s place and had accepted another drink from his former partner. They had started talking. First about trivial things like the weather or a new employee but soon, the conversation circled back to them. 

“You never told me whether the rumour of you seeing someone is true,” Draco stated. 

Harry shook his head. “We didn’t make it past the third date.”

“Why not?”

Harry opened his mouth but bit back his reply. To Draco, Harry looked sad for a brief second before he put on a smile. It was fake, Draco could still tell. 

“He was too boring.”

“I would have thought you get enough excitement in the Auror’s office.”

Harry didn’t answer; instead he cocked his head and looked Draco straight in the eye. 

“So what about all those affairs of yours? Anything serious?”

Draco laughed. “In 90 per cent of the cases I don’t even know their name. So, no.”

“Why not?”

“Because there’ll-“ he started but cut himself off again. He shouldn’t say that. 

“What?” Harry leaned forward, curious. 

Draco didn’t look into the emerald eyes when he finished his sentence hurriedly. “Because there’ll always only be you.”

Silence reigned for a long moment as neither of them spoke. 

When Harry broke the quiet, it was barely more than a whisper but Draco understood every word. 

“I find it hard to stop comparing everyone to you.”

The “ _They don’t measure up_ ” hung unspoken between them and Draco finally looked up. He couldn’t decipher what he saw on Harry’s face and the emotions in his chest were too much to deal with right now. Why had he cheated? Why had he lost this man?

He stood up abruptly. “I should go.”

Harry rose as well. “Probably.”

He walked the Slytherin to the front door in silence. “Get home safely,” Harry muttered and placed his hand almost subconsciously on Draco’s arm. 

The blond looked at the hand, mesmerised by the heat that spread from where Harry touched his bare skin. 

Before Draco could think his actions over, he was meeting Harry’s eyes and closing the gap between them, kissing Harry. 

The moment his lips met Draco’s, Draco came back to reality. 

He drew back in shock, mumbled a hurried “sorry” and stormed out of Grimmauld Place. He kept on running until he found himself in front of his favourite bar. 

He needed a drink. 

XXX

Draco ended up taking some bloke back to his flat. He needed to shut up the voices in his head, the memories, the emotions.

He had just torn off the bloke‘s pants when Draco heard a knock on the door. 

Whoever was knocking at this hour really needed something. Draco jumped out of bed and rushed to the door. A glance through the peephole knocked the air out of his lungs. It was the Boy Who Lived Again And Had Really Bad Timing. 

Draco opened the door and for almost two minutes, the two of them simply stared at each other. Hundreds of scenarios played out in Draco’s head, from Harry slapping him, cursing him, to Harry pulling him into another kiss. He could see a myriad of emotions pass over Harry’s face. Confusion, longing. Eventually, he settled for a smile.

A voice tore through the moment. “Are you coming back to bed? The sheets are getting cold.” 

Draco closed his eyes. Harry’s head snapped up, looking over Draco’s shoulder but he probably couldn’t see anyone. 

Draco hurriedly replied “Give me a moment!” and before he could say anything, Harry’s face transformed: Where it had been smiling, hesitant, and definitely nervous, it now was contorted. 

“Fuck you, Malfoy!” he spat out and stormed off. Draco felt like he had walked through a ghost. 

“Bloody hell!” His fists hit the wall – he felt his skin break. 

“What’s wrong?” The guy came out into the hallway. Draco’s mask was back in a matter of milliseconds. 

“An emergency. I’m sorry, but I need to throw you out.”  
“Too bad,” the – what was his bloody name anyway? – bloke huffed, then winked. “Glad you know my favourite bar.”

He kissed Draco but the Slytherin made no move to reciprocate so the man left it at a simple press of his lips against Draco‘s, gathered his clothes while Draco gathered his thoughts and left. 

After putting a jacket on, Draco followed, stormed past the bewildered stranger on the staircase and headed into the cold night. 

He left it to his gut to guide him. He knew that Harry wouldn’t apparate this upset. He hated apparating anyway. Harry would walk and look for a dark alley where no one would recognise him to calm down.

Draco sprinted forward, his lungs burning with the cold air, but then he heard something, a noise. 

He turned the corner – the alley was dark, pitch black in fact. People were struggling. 

“Lumos,” Draco said and his wand lit up the alley. What he saw froze the blood in his veins before it was coursing through his body again, full of adrenaline.

Hooded figures had obviously stunned Harry who had been too upset to notice the threat. Draco shot a hex at the tallest figure but the wizard blocked it. 

In the flash from when his hex hit the shield charm Draco could make out the face. He knew the features, had seen them before. 

Then the men had gone and so had Harry. 

Without thinking, Draco conjured up several Patronuses and sent them off. He apparated back to his flat, told his elves to watch the kids at Harry’s house, then flooed to the Granger-Weasleys. 

“What happened?!” Ron sounded urgent. “Your Patronus said that Harry has been kidnapped?!”

Draco nodded. “I saw it happen.” Before he could go on, however, the floo sprang to life again. It was his boss Daniel Overstreet, followed suit by Kingsley. 

“Listen,” Draco started without greeting. “A group of hooded figures kidnapped Harry. I recognised their leader: It’s Scabbinger; I met him through the Death Eaters. Last we heard he had fled to Mexico.”

“Where did they take him?” Ron looked sick with worry but had kept a clear head. Draco was grateful. His question got him pacing. 

His mind was in overdrive, he was filing through every memory he had of Scabbinger. Then it hit him like a bullet. 

“Scabbinger is living near Gillingham! His house was a meeting place, which meant it had the proper protection and it will have them again.”  
“You mean the wards?”  
Draco nodded at Kingsley. “Only a Death Eater can enter consciously.”

The minister, Overstreet, Ron and he shared a look. 

“I’ll call in the troops,” his boss said. 

“I’ll gather as many Aurors I can find.”

“I’ll go back to the Ministry and make sure none of this goes public.”

“And I’ll pay Scabbinger a visit.”

“Draco,” shrieked Hermione. “It’s too dangerous!”  
His look silenced her. 

He nodded at the three men and both Kingsley and Overstreet flooed off. Ron’s hand on his shoulder kept Draco from disapparating. 

“Save him. I know you still care about him. Save him, please.”

Draco nodded. “I will.”

Moments later he was standing in front of a darkened house. He felt it vibrating with magic, dark magic. Without making any sound, Draco stepped over the threshold and entered the house. He heard soft noises coming from the basement. 

A simple disillusionment charm would set off the wards so Draco resorted to the darkest magic he could think of. The door below stood ajar so he could slip in easily. 

He gasped. Harry had told him about the night that Cedric had died, what had happened, about the cauldron, the bone of the father, the flesh of the servant – and the blood of the enemy. Harry looked bad, bound to a wall next to a cauldron. They hadn’t cut Harry but Scabbinger was performing a spell, his wand pointing at Harry who seemed to lose colour and look sicker by the second. 

Suddenly, Draco recognised the spell – Bellatrix had told him about it. It took the life force of a person and transferred it forcefully to someone else... Until the person was half-dead or not so lucky. 

Draco charged and fired curses, hexes, jinxes, as quick as he could. The group of about 30 people came to life, he shielded most curses, couldn’t escape others but he felt no pain. He simply kept on fighting until at last, his Body-Bind-Curse hit Scabbinger fully in the chest, incapacitating him. 

Draco released the chains around Harry’s wrists and feet and lifted him up. His pulse was weak, almost unnoticeable. But it was there. 

He stormed out, clinging to Harry who was limp in his arms, and was glad to see an army of witches and wizards waiting outside. 

“Is he alive?” Ron called, all caution forgotten at the sight of Harry. 

“Barely.” Draco turned to his boss. “They’re in the basement; I tried not to kill anyone. Harry needs a doctor.”  
The man nodded, waved him off and turned to the Hit Wizards and Aurors. 

Draco focused and apparated right into St. Mungo’s emergency room. 

XXX

Two hours later, Draco was pacing in front of the examination room. He had seen a myriad of doctors and healers come and go, trying to find a way to make Harry better and all Draco was allowed to do was pace. 

Hermione and Ron were staring into the distance while the kids, theirs included, were fast asleep. 

Draco was playing with the wound on his cheek. He had refused any help until Harry was okay, had kept refusing until now. They should give Harry their undivided attention to find a way to heal the effects of the spell. 

Familiar footsteps shook him out of his reverie. Hermione and Ron sprang to their feet as they saw Kingsley approach. 

“How is he?” the Minister asked and glanced from Ron to Draco. 

“The doctors are still with him. We don’t know anything,” Ron answered. 

“Let me remedy that.” 

Kingsley was off, probably to play the Minister-card on one of the staff. 

Draco resumed his pacing. He was trying very hard to remember which book in his library held details on the spell the men had used. If he did, he could send Oaky to fetch it and look up a way to help Harry. 

“They haven’t been successful in reversing the effects of the spell yet.” Kingsley looked extremely grim. 

“But I told them what kind of spell it is! What’s taking so long?” Draco tried to ignore the panic in his voice. 

“It’s incredibly dark magic which they haven’t encountered before.”

“But they healed my Dad,” Ron cut in. “After Voldemort’s snake attacked him! They didn‘t know what to do and then found a way.”

Kingsley replied but Draco didn’t catch it – his mind was in overdrive again. Snake…. Basilisk. _Of Basilisks and other strong incantations_. That was the book Bellatrix had mentioned. 

“Oaky,” he called and startled the others. The elf appeared a second later. 

“Yes, Master Draco?”

“I need you to get me a book.”

With a snap, the creature vanished. 

“Draco, what’s going on?”

“What’s with the book?”

“Hermione, Ron, I’ll explain later.” 

Oaky brought the book back; he sent her off and skimmed the pages, ignoring the worried looks that the three adults shot him. 

After what seemed like a hundred pages, there it was: Dusha kraszt. A Russian spell. 

“ _The Dusha kraszt is extremely difficult to perform right because it forcefully takes the life of an individual and transfers it – usually to strengthen the recipient but weaken the giver. The more life is taken, the less life remains in the giver. This spell is likely to cause death if used excessively.  
Once weakened, the giver will return to complete health with enough rest. Should the person be too far gone already, but not yet dead, the only way to save the giver is to give him life force in return. It has to be done out of the giver’s free will, though, and a strong emotional bond is necessary to counteract the dark magic at work. Only few are known to have succeeded for the healer puts his own life at great risk as well._ ”

Draco stared at the page. Those healers could do all they wanted, they would never save Harry. 

But Draco could. 

He didn’t even ponder the decision and later on, he would muse over that fact, but in that moment, there seemed to be no reason for refusing his help. 

He mesmerised the spell, still pacing and once he was absolutely sure, he shut the book and turned to Kingsley. 

“Kingsley, I know how to save him. I can perform the spell. I need you to get me to Harry. And we need to be alone.”

For a moment, the black man held his gaze and then walked away. 

“What’s going on?”

“I’ve found a cure. The only cure.”

“Mate, do whatever you need to!”

“Ron, wait! Draco, this is dangerous, isn’t it? You’re putting yourself at risk.”

“No, I’m not,” the blond lied. “It’s a tricky spell. But I can do it.”

Five minutes later he was in the examination room with Harry. No, it wasn’t Harry but rather his shell for underneath the unhealthy pale shade of his skin couldn’t be a person. 

“If one of you stops me before I’m finished, I’ll personally kill that person and gladly die in Azkaban, is that clear?”

The healers nodded. Draco had gotten in easily but they wouldn’t leave their patient. Not even for Kingsley.

Draco took a deep breath. He tried to push the knowledge of his spectators out of his mind and began the incantation, time and time again until he felt it, his life force. He took Harry’s hand in his own and continued. 

It was flowing, from him into Harry and if Draco hadn’t been too concentrated, he’d have relished the feeling of how connected they were, how Harry reacted to Draco on this plane. 

He lost all feeling for time. After what might have been minutes or hours, Draco felt Harry’s body, his soul, coming back to life. 

Draco gave all he was able to give, kept on giving as he felt Harry growing stronger under his touch, didn’t hear the shouts from his spectators. All he felt was the connection and how peaceful it was. 

Then there was darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I couldn't resist the cliffhanger. 
> 
> I also know that some might be a bit irked as to why Ron is so nice to Draco in this chapter - but for me it was obvious, because Draco lost his mother and Scorpius' mother... This Ron wouldn't give him a hard time after such a loss. 
> 
> Next week: Final chapter. OMG.


	3. It's all coming back to me now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry wakes up in St. Mungo's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love and many hugs to everyone who followed Hallway-Harry and Hallway-Draco through the ups and downs of this story. This is the last chapter - I hope it makes up for all the heartache in the last two parts!

Chapter 3

Harry awoke with a start, felt for his wand which wasn’t there. For a brief moment, panic took over and he thought he might have been captured but then he recognised the light room of St. Mungo’s. 

Next to his bed, Ron stirred and opened his eyes. The sight of Harry made him jump up. 

“Mate, how are you? Are you alright?” 

Harry stared at his friend – hardly ever had he seen Ron in so much distress. 

“I feel… remarkably strong,” Harry mused. “What happened?”

Ron sighed in relief. “Neo-Death-Eaters. They took you. But how, Harry? How did they get to you?”

With a jolt, he remembered. Draco. The man in his apartment. The alley and suddenly someone yelling “Stupefy!” 

“I was distracted.” 

Ron’s calculating look said he probably knew more than Harry would have liked.   
So he changed the subject. “Thanks for getting me out, mate.”

Ron looked up and laughed bitterly. “Don’t thank me; I had nothing to do with your rescue.”

“Then who-“

“Draco. He saw the kidnapping. He recognised one of them, he deduced where they kept you and he was the only one who could get in safely because he had the Mark.”

Harry wanted to say something but his voice had left him. Draco had gone after him? Had risked his life? 

“Where is Draco?” 

The question painted a pained look on Ron’s face. 

“Mate, they did something, a spell. _Dusha kraszt_ , Draco said. They were taking your life energy and wanted to put it into another one of those bones.”

“They wanted to resurrect Voldemort?!” Harry jumped out of the bed but a strong hand on his shoulder pushed him back into the mattress. 

“No way are you getting out of this bed, mate. Physician’s orders. And Kingsley’s.”

Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm down. 

“They didn’t succeed then?”

“No. Draco was there in time to stop them from killing you with the spell. He incapacitated the NDEs and got you here.”

“I need to see him. I need to thank him-“ but Ron’s arm across his chest and the look on his face rooted Harry to the spot. 

“There’s more. The spell they used nearly killed you. For hours the healers tried everything they could but didn’t find out how to help you. It was maddening, mate, I can tell you. Draco had recognised the spell and told the healers everything about it he knew, but…. You were dying, Harry.”

“Then why am I alive? And feeling so strong?”

Ron sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Draco remembered which book it was that had details on the spell. Kingsley later told us that the book has been banned for centuries. Somehow, it survived the raids of Malfoy Manor… Anyway. One of the elves brought it, Draco read something and then was off to you. His only explanation was that he was the only one who could help you.”

Realisation hit Harry like a Stunning Spell. “Draco saved my life?”

“So it would seem, mate.”

“Where is he? I need to thank him.”

Harry was halfway out of bed before Ron put a hand on his arm. 

“He’s in a coma.”

“What?”

“Hermione read up on the spell while Draco was with you. It… It takes the life force of someone and transfers it. The more is taken, the closer the victim is to death. At some point, only another _Dusha kraszt_ can save the victim. But…” Ron swallowed. “It needs to be giving willingly. And there needs to be a strong emotional bond between the two.”

Harry couldn’t move. “So Draco risked his own life to get me back?”

Ron shrugged and suddenly found his shoes rather interesting. 

“And why didn’t anyone stop him?”

“The healers tried when they saw what the spell was doing to Draco but they couldn’t get to him… It was strange. And before, Draco had promised everyone a gruesome death who should try to stop him.”

“Sounds like him.”

Ron nodded. 

Silence fell. Harry’s thoughts were running amok, they had no direction. He was angry, angry at Draco for picking up some guy after kissing him, for coming after him, for putting his own life on the line for Harry and then actually trying to exchange his life for Harry’s. 

“I need to see him. I want to see him wake up and if just so I can slap him for his stupidity.”

Harry stood up, grabbed some clothes from the bag Ron probably had brought with him and looked at his friend expectantly. 

“Suit yourself.” 

Ron led him to another room. Draco was lying in the bed, magical devices orbiting him. Something was wrong. Draco was paler than usual, his hair was askew, he looked more dead than alive. 

“They’re not sure he’ll wake up again.”

“No, Ron, he needs to wake up. I need to tell him how stupid he was, I can’t-“ The door opened and cut off Harry’s rambling. 

A bush of hair flew towards him and he found himself in Hermione’s crushing hug. Ted, Rose and Hugo followed her and hugged him. The last child to enter was Scorpius, who looked rather lost. 

Before Harry could say anything, Kingsley and a healer stormed in. 

“Harry! I can’t tell you how good it is to see you alive.”

Harry smiled briefly and turned to the healer who was staring at him in awe. 

“You look fully recovered, Mr Potter.”

“I am, thank you. What about Draco?”

“He is in a coma. It is unlike any magical coma we’ve ever experienced here. Nothing will get him out. We seem to be resigned to wait it out.”

“But you’re healers! You should know how to help him!”

“Mr Potter, _Dusha kraszt_ is a very old, very powerful and very dark spell. We haven’t encountered it in several decades and the last time, nothing could be done to safe the victim. Nor the times before. It’s a miracle you’re even alive, let alone walking.” 

“There has to be something-“ Harry started, knowing fully well that he was working himself into a rage. Ron and Hermione recognised the signs and Ron’s hand on his shoulder brought Harry up short. 

“Harry, let them do their job. I’m sure they’re doing everything they can. Draco wouldn’t want you to attack a healer because of him.”

And just like that, all the energy left Harry again. He turned towards the bed and considered the pale figure. 

“I’ll wait here until he wakes,” he stated. 

“Harry, you should get back to bed and rest-“

“Hermione, thank you for your concern but I’m fine. More than fine.”

He felt the four adults behind him exchange looks. Eventually, the healer spoke up. 

“If you need anything, Mr Potter, please call.”

Harry didn’t react. He was too deep in thought. 

XXX

Harry lost all sense of time. He waited by Draco’s bedside, sometimes with Scorpius, sometimes with Ted, sometimes with both but he soon sent them away. 

“I’ll watch over him, Scorpius. When he wakes, you’ll be the first I’ll tell.”

Everyone left him mostly alone, safe a few nurses who brought him food he barely touched, a chair he’d doze off in for a few minutes before startling awake again, or healers who’d give Draco another tincture that didn’t wake him. 

“Why are you waiting, Harry?”

The man looked up to see Scorpius across the bed. 

“He saved my life. I want to say thank you, Scorpius.”

The child thought his answer over. It shocked Harry how much the boy looked like a young Draco but with a softness that had only come to his father in later years. 

“Aunt Hermione said to Ron that it’s strange that you’re waiting.”

“Why do they think it strange?”

“I didn’t hear. I think it’s because you stopped.”

“Stopped what?”

Scorpius took his father’s hand. 

“Dad told me that you and him once were like Hermione and Ron. But then you stopped.” 

“Did he tell you why?”

Scorpius looked up and it was clear to Harry that the boy had never asked his father about the real reasons. 

“He said it wasn’t working anymore.” A pause. Then Scorpius looked up again. “Why didn’t it work anymore?”

Harry sighed. What was he supposed to say?

“You’ll understand it when you’re older.”

“Dad says I’m very manure for my age.”

“Mature,“ Harry smiled. “It’s mature.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Harry couldn’t help grinning. Then he sighed. “I’ll try to explain it, alright?”

Scorpius nodded and looked at Harry expectantly. The latter tried hard to find words that the child would understand.

“We got together in school. We were very happy, we became Aurors together. When Ted’s grandmother died, he moved in with us. It was really nice. But…. After a while it… It’s complicated, Scorpius. I think you can say that things changed. They weren’t so good anymore. We weren’t happy anymore. Then Draco met your mother.”

Scorpius was silent, waiting for Harry to go on but what should he say? Draco betrayed him? 

“When he told me, I ended our relationship. That was over three years ago.”

The blond boy considered the story for a moment. 

“But Dad loves you. Why did he meet my mother?”

Harry sighed. “When you’re older you’ll understand, Scorpius. Sometimes, one person can’t give you everything that you want. Then you look for it in someone else.”

The child nodded. 

“And you didn’t like that?”

“No.”

“And you didn’t talk to him for three years?” Scorpius seemed confused. 

“Yes.”

“But why are you here?”

“Like I said, I owe him a thank you.”

Harry watched Scorpius thinking. Then his face split into a mischievous smile which Harry didn’t like at all. 

“Kingsley wants to thank him, too. But Kingsley isn’t waiting here. Only you. And there are healers who take care of him. You don’t need to wait.”

Harry didn’t say anything. 

“I think it’s complicated.”

“What?”

“You say you want to thank my Dad. And you could wait like aunt Hermione does. But you wait here. It’s complicated. And you look at him like Ron looks at Hermione.”

Harry stared at the child. Damn, he had inherited Draco’s cunning. 

“Is that a problem?”

Scorpius shook his head. “If you would get back together, I could play with Ted more often.” The child jumped off his chair. “I’m hungry.”

With that, he was off, leaving Harry dumb-founded next to Draco’s bedside. 

XXX

There was no way Harry could find any sleep after his conversation with Scorpius. 

Harry knew it must be late, but his mind didn’t seem to care for his body’s need for sleep. 

Harry kept replaying the final months of his and Draco’s relationship in his mind. How blind he had been. How many hurt looks had he overseen? How many had he ignored? How often hadn’t he listened to Draco while he was busy with his secret cases? Why hadn’t he asked Draco what he could do after Lucius had died? 

And most importantly: Would Harry have said anything if the tables had been reversed? 

He knew the answer. No. He wouldn’t have said anything. 

Would he have started an affair? If Draco had ignored him, and someone had paid him attention, flirted with him – would Harry have acted on it? 

Harry took Draco’s hand and winced. It was cold like a corpse’s. 

“I’m sorry, Draco,” he whispered. “For everything I did and especially for what I didn’t do.”

No reaction. Harry dropped Draco’s hand and stood up in a rush. 

_Get a grip, Harry_ , he told himself. This is not a movie. 

Harry had taken Draco to a movie once. It was a cheesy film, and Draco had made fun afterwards about Harry’s soft side and Harry had teased him about the numerous cheesy things Draco had done during their year at Hogwarts and Draco had shut him up with a kiss. 

And the same eyes that had been so full of life then were unseeing under cold eyelids. Harry wanted to say something but stopped himself. 

_It’s not a movie, Draco won’t wake up if you confess your undying love._

His what? 

But who was he kidding. Of course he was still in love with Draco, hadn’t managed to stop, no matter how much he had tried, no matter how many first dates he had had. 

Draco felt so, too, he realised. The promiscuity didn’t fool Harry anymore. He had seen the look in Draco’s eyes at Grimmauld Place, had felt every ounce of his emotions when he had kissed Harry and taken off before Harry had been able to react. 

“We’re both stupid, you know?” Harry whispered. “And now it’s too late. We were so great together and I’m sorry that I ruined it. I’m sorry I threw you out and that I was too much of a coward to speak to you again. I’m sorry about so many things.”

And Harry couldn’t help himself. The tears came and he couldn’t stop the flow of words, everything that he had always wanted to say but never voiced. Things Draco did that he loved, other things that he hated. How he had tried to date but how his thoughts had circled back to Draco. How Harry was unable to sleep in his bed anymore because it used to be their bed and how Harry had taken refuge on the couch for good now. 

“The Boy Who Lived To Be A Drama Queen. I’m hardly surprised.” 

Harry’s head snapped up. He was almost sure he was hallucinating. Draco’s eyes were open, looking at him. 

“I’m not a drama queen.”

Draco smirked weakly. His voice was hoarse from lack of use. “Please. The only thing missing is a confession of undying love and you’ll receive Witch Weekly’s Most Cheesy Moment Award.”

They had made jokes about that award. It didn’t really exist, Harry remembered, but Draco had come up with it after Harry had told him he’d always love him at Ron and Hermione’s wedding. 

“Earth to Harry?”

Harry looked up. “I’m not dreaming, am I?”

“I’d pinch you but I doubt I can lift my arm.”

Draco’s comment was meant as a sneer but it was too full of emotion to carry any bite. 

They shared a long look before Draco spoke again. 

“Do I interpret your monologue right when I assume you forgive me for my mistake?”

Harry nodded. 

“What does that mean, then?”

Harry breathed out audibly and wiped the tears from his face. “That I still love you and even though you do stupid things that make me want to kill you-“

“Like what?”

“Like giving me your life force and nearly killing yourself in the process!”

“You were dying.”

“And then you were.”

“We’re even, then?”

“What kind of logic is that?”

Draco shrugged, or tried to, but then winced. Harry rushed forward. 

“Sorry! Are you alright?” 

Draco looked up and smiled. His eyes were glittering with tears and Harry’s breath caught in his throat. “Yes. My Chosen One is back.” 

“Who’s the cheesy one now?” Harry replied and did nothing to hide his tears. 

“I figure we both are.”

Then Draco smiled and Harry couldn’t resist – he kissed Draco as if his life depended on it. 

And bloody hell, it probably did.

 

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I actually finished this series! I can‘t believe it! I started this in 2007, right after I read DH... And damn, I actually made myself cry writing the end... But hey, after more than 200,000 words I spent in this AU, I‘m allowed to tear up, I guess.
> 
> I hope the end wasn‘t too cheesy, though. And that you all enjoyed the ride! I sure as hell did :) Lots of love to my beta vernie_klein! I couldn't have done this without you! 
> 
> **Suggested reading** : Those of you who'd like more Harry/Draco, check out my other works, "Gorgeous" and "Virus". Gorgeous is an EWE rape recovery story of 108,000 words. Part I is finished, part II will follow soon. Virus is a sixth year AU with lots and lots of porn for a prompt from vernie_klein. The last chapter is still missing but it's already 63,000 words ;)   
> Enjoy reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Updates Saturdays. Everything is finished, so there won't be unexpected breaks! 
> 
> Feel free to share your thoughts :)


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